As Andreas stepped inside, Belinda staggered back dramatically. “Ahh!”

Instinctively, I reached out to stop her, but to anyone watching, it looked like I had pushed her.

“What did I do wrong for you to push me, Selena?” she wailed, clutching her belly dramatically.

Andreas rushed to her side, placing himself between us protectively. “Selena! What the hell are you doing?! Belinda’s pregnant right now!”

Oh, already intending to reveal everything? Fine, I would follow the drama.

Innocently, I asked, “Pregnant? With whom?”

Andreas froze for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but Belinda stayed calm.

“Andre, I’m fine. Hopefully, the baby’s fine too. So, there’s no need to panic. You just need to tell the truth.”

Andreas exhaled slowly and nodded. “Okay. Let me explain to her.”

He helped Belinda sit up, then looked at me like I was a problem to solve.

“Selena,” he began, his tone almost pitying, “Belinda is pregnant with our child.”

I pretended to be shocked, “What?!”

“Listen, remember I told you I was looking for a surrogate because you couldn’t carry after the miscarriages? Belinda offered because she loves you.”

So, this was the plan he had thought about. No wonder, after my third miscarriage, Andreas came with his “solution.”

Surrogacy.

But I was already exhausted that time, told him I needed time.

That was when everything began to change.

He stopped talking to me, started coming home late, saying that he felt tired at the filming location.

Desperate not to lose him, I finally agreed to the surrogacy program. And just like that, his affection returned.

He gave me gifts every month after each retrieval — jewelry, designer dresses, anything to make me believe I still mattered.

Until today, I opened Belinda’s social media.

There they were — photos of her with the same jewelry, the same dresses… even the same bouquet he gave me.

It felt like the gifts he gave me were nothing more than leftovers from what he had already given her.

And he did it all just to keep me agreeing to whatever he wanted.

I bit my lips, did not know what to respond, until he added, “So, starting today, we should repay her kindness. She’ll live with us.”

Belinda reached for my tightly clenched hand.

“Selena,” she cooed sweetly. “Let’s raise this baby together. I promise to deliver it for you.”

Behind her gentle tone, I saw it — that mockery hidden under her compassion.

I smiled, slow and sharp.

“No need,” I said coldly. “You better drop this baby now, or I’ll do it myself.”

Andreas’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? What do you mean? Don’t you really want children?”

Belinda wiped her fake tears, her voice trembling perfectly. “I knew it. Selena wouldn’t like me coming…”

Andreas crouched in front of her, his hand caressing her arm tenderly. “No, no, don’t cry. You don’t have to—after all you’ve done for us.”

Then his expression hardened as he faced me. “We’ve been married for five years, and you’ve had several miscarriages. This child in her womb came from your egg too! How could you even think of aborting it?”

My egg?

I almost laughed.

The truth was, all my retrievals had failed — all but one. And that one was already in my womb.

So, I smirked. “It’s precisely because it’s my child that I want to abort it now. I’m not ready to have children.”

Andreas’s face darkened, anger rising in his voice. “You! After all Belinda’s been through, you dare say that? You’re so ungrateful.”

Belinda sobbed harder, clutching her stomach dramatically. “I love this baby, Andre… I could never bear to harm it…”

Andreas turned on me again, his voice breaking into rage. “Look! Even Belinda loves this child — but you, its own mother, plan to abandon it!”

“I never knew you were this heartless, Selena.”

Heartless?

My lips curled into a bitter smile. ‘You’re mocking yourself, Andreas.’

Andreas continued coldly, “I don’t care whether you agree or not. This baby is mine, not just yours. I’ll handle it however I please.”

Seeing him so defensive of that bitch, I clutched my belly, trembling. “Fine. Take care of the baby. I just do hope it doesn’t miscarry.”

“You’re cursing the baby?!” His voice exploded with anger.

While Belinda forced out those sickening fake tears. “You’ve gone too far, Selena.”

Those tears successfully added fuel to the fire, so Andreas ordered the driver to stop and told me to get out, saying I should “reflect on myself” and walk home.

The van drove away, leaving me alone in the street as the drizzle slowly turned into rain.

I took shelter at the nearest bus stop, deciding I wouldn’t go home. But then thunder rolled, and Belinda sent a new message.

It was a photo of my dog, soaked in the rain outside our house.

[Look what I found. This annoying mutt should be thrown outside with its owner, right?]

Shit! She did know how to attack my weakest side.

My second miscarriage happened while filming a short drama. The doctor said I was overworked, so I stopped acting to recover.

Seeing me unable to eat from grief, Andreas had bought me a puppy.

“How about we raise this puppy first?” he said softly. “Consider it our first child.”

I hugged him and the little puppy, pouring all my love into that tiny life.

At the same time, Andreas founded Lenz Agency, and I devoted myself to helping it grow. With my support, the agency rose quickly, and we even named the puppy, Lenz, just like his company.

Andreas knew exactly how much that dog meant to me. Yet she still let that woman touch him.

I ran home through the storm, wishing I still had time to save Lenz.

But as if fate itself wanted to crush me, the moment I reached the house, I saw my dog lying at the intersection—someone had run him over.

I dropped to my knees, scooped him into my arms, and rushed to the pet hospital. But even after arriving, he couldn’t be saved.

I came home in the early morning after arranging Lenz’s funeral, exhausted and furious, only to find Andreas and Belinda asleep in the master bedroom, wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Not only did you steal my husband, you killed my dog—and now take my bedroom?!” I shouted, yanking the blanket off them.

They woke up with a start. Belinda quickly hid behind Andreas, who tried to calm me.

“Selena, relax. I just stayed with her last night. You know she’s afraid of thunder.”

I let out a cold laugh. “Really? Then explain the dog.”

“Belinda’s allergic to fur. Didn’t you know? And Lenz only stayed outside for a while.”

“Fine. Then explain this room,” I pressed, tired of every excuse.

“You know Belinda is pregnant,” he said, as if reasoning with a child. “I couldn’t let her sleep in the tiny guest room, so—”

I cut him off. “So, for Belinda, you’ll do anything. Even kill me?”

“What are you talking about? You still haven’t reflected on your mistakes, have you?”

I laughed. "Tell me, what kind of reflection do you want from me, huh?"

Then he sighed. “Whatever, I don't want to argue with you anymore at this early hour. Just take this room, I’ll let Belinda stay in another room.”

He lifted her in his arms and carried her out as if my feelings meant nothing.

Belinda smirked over his shoulder, mouthing, “You can’t win.”

I stood alone, staring at the door until the silence swallowed me.

I stumbled into the bathroom, letting the scalding water pour over me, trying to wash away the ache in my chest. But the more the water ran, the harder I cried.

Five years of sacrifice—wasted.

I had left my parents and refused an arranged marriage for Andreas.

In our five years together, I trusted him completely—every co-star, every late shoot. I even helped him build Lenz Agency and never complained, believing love was enough.

But now, because I couldn’t give him a child, he replaced me.

By afternoon, I heard drilling inside the house. I thought they were renovating a room for Belinda—but it was worse.

They were tearing apart the nursery we had designed for our first child.

The decorations we had chosen together were thrown away like nothing.

In agony, I yelled.

“Stop it!” I shouted, startling the builder Andreas had hired. “Who told you to destroy this room?”

He replied calmly, “We’re just following Ms. Logan’s instructions, Ma’am. Please don’t get in the way.”

“Get in the way? This is my house, and this is my baby’s room! You’re the ones in the way—get out!”

The noise brought Andreas and Belinda over.

Seeing me breaking down, Andreas hugged me from behind—the same way he used to comfort me after every miscarriage.

“Hey, calm down,” he murmured. “I know you’re still hurting, but we’ll have another. Maybe it won’t come from your womb, but the result is the same, right? The baby will still be ours.”

I looked up at him, stunned.

Even after everything, his warmth wasn’t for me. It was for her—and for their child.

“Is that what you’re thinking, Andreas?” I asked quietly, my voice trembling. “That I’m just sad because I can’t conceive? That I should be grateful you found another woman to do it for me?”

He reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Of course. That’s the main problem we’ve had all along, right?”

“Main problem?” I repeated, my voice breaking.

He nodded earnestly, as if he were saying something noble. “Yes. You’ve been depressed because you can’t get pregnant, and I just want to fix that. So…”

He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Why don’t we just trust Belinda? She’s your best friend, and I know she’ll do her best for our baby, to make you happy.”

I pointed at the faded wall hanging we had painted together and shouted, “You think letting her redecorate this nursery makes me happy? Don’t you remember how long I’ve waited for our child in this room?”

Without the slightest shame, he replied, “Selena, it’s just a nursery. The decorations are outdated anyway. What’s wrong with Belinda wanting to update it?”

He went on, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. “She’s carrying our child. She has the right to contribute to our baby’s future.”

“I want you both to support each other. Wouldn’t it be great to raise a child together?”

I slapped him, unable to bear another word.

He froze in shock, but before he could react, Belinda slapped me back.

“Andre has done everything for you! How can you repay him like this, Selena?!”

I knew if Belinda pretended to be nice and defended Andreas. But he took it as something precious until he spat, “I’ve been patient for five years with your inability to give me children. From our first to our last, all of them were your fault!”

“You couldn’t even take care of your own body. So don’t be surprised if I entrust my child to another woman!”

Tears blurred my vision, since what he said was true.

My first miscarriage happened on set — the day I filmed my first role beside him. I slipped during a scene, and the baby was gone before I even realized it.

The second loss came while I was filming a short drama. The doctor said I was overworked, so I quit acting for a while to recover, determined to bring another life into the world.

And I did. For a moment, I believed it was a miracle. But that, too, was taken from me — after a minor car accident at an intersection.

I survived. The baby didn’t.

But every time it happened, Andreas always calmed me down, saying everything would be alright.

Until that day, finally I knew his tenderness had been fake. In the end, he still blamed me for losing our children.

The thought was sickening me, and I rushed to the bathroom. Nothing came out since I hadn’t eaten anything.

I reflexively held my stomach, not from pain, but from wondering what would happen next.

I was pregnant again—but not with the child Andreas had been waiting for. Now that Belinda carried his “future,” would this baby even have a place in his life?

I knew it would not.

So, I picked up my phone, called the hospital, not to confirm the pregnancy check-up—I called to end it.

I refused to bring a new life into a world ruled by a man who had already destroyed mine.

Right after the call, a message popped up. It was from Belinda. [You ruined your own marriage, bestie. Don’t blame me if he feels more comfortable with me.]

A second later, another message appeared, a photo.

Andreas was sleeping on her chest, her hand stroking his hair, a smug smile on her face.

My fingers moved on their own as I forwarded the photo, along with every piece of evidence I had collected to Neil.

[I think just leaving Andreas won’t satisfy me. Help me investigate their relationship and make sure it’s all included in the divorce papers.]

Neil replied almost instantly. [Wow! In just a day, you’ve turned into the best spy in the world. Don’t worry, anyone who messes with you is the same as messing with the Sullivans.]

Yes, Sullivans were my family. The most powerful in Europe.

And yet I had walked away from all of that just to chase a man who would one day betray me.

How naïve I've been all this time.

Exiting the restroom, the maid stepped in quietly.

“Ma’am,” she said softly, “Mr. McMillan asked if you could make the chicken soup you always cook for breakfast.”

I said flatly, “You know the recipe, just make it for him. I’m not in the mood to cook.”

She hesitated. “Mr. McMillan said it should be you, because…”

I turned to her, my voice low and sharp. “Because what?”

Her eyes flickered nervously. “Because Miss Logan is craving it right now.”

“You mean I should cook for that bitch? No way even in eternity!”

At that moment, my mother-in-law stormed in. “What? After failing to give me a grandchild, you won’t even obey your husband’s orders now? How long will you keep ignoring your duties, Selena?!”

I froze, staring at her — the woman I had always tried to please.

Seeing Andreas bring her here told me everything. He wanted to break me down completely, to make me surrender.

But it did not matter anymore, I already intended to leave this hell.

“Until Belinda aborts the baby in her belly?” I replied coldly.

A loud slap echoed through the room.

“Don’t you dare touch my grandchild! For someone who can’t conceive on your own, you are so shameless.”

“Now go cook the soup,” she ordered, grabbing my wrist and dragging me to the kitchen.

I stumbled and hit the edge of the table, clutching my stomach instinctively.

She noticed and sneered. “The one who’s pregnant is Belinda, not you. Stop touching that barren belly of yours like it’s worth something. Useless daughter-in-law.”

Then she turned away, returning to the living room — where she sat comfortably with Belinda, feeding her fruit as though she were the queen of the house.

I pressed my trembling hand against my belly. It seemed my intuition was right. Even if this baby survived, it would live in the shadow of Belinda’s.

I then took a deep breath and moved my hand, thinking that it was the last thing I would give them before destroying their lives.

But as I stirred the pot, Belinda waltzed into the kitchen.

She was holding a glass, pretending to need water.

Her lips curled with mockery. “So, tell me, are you really Mrs. McMillan? Or just a maid here? Even your scent stinks like this kitchen.”

I gripped the ladle tightly, forcing my voice to stay calm.

“Don’t get too proud just because you’re carrying a baby. One day, when they find your weakness, they’ll crush you, the same way they crushed me.”

Her smile vanished. “What did you just say?”

She lunged forward, yanking my hair back hard. I stumbled — the ladle slipped from my hand, and the boiling soup toppled from the stove.

Splash!

The scalding liquid hit my feet. Belinda screamed, her arm splattered too.

“Ahhh!”

“What’s going on?!” Andreas shouted.

Belinda burst into tears on cue, “Andre, I… I was just trying to help Selena, but she threw hot soup at me!”

Not this performance again. I was so tired of this act. “It was you…” I began.

But before I could defend myself, Andreas’s mother slapped me hard.

“You are so inconsiderate!” she snapped. “If you can’t give us anything, at least stop bringing disaster into this house!”

“But I…” I tried to explain again, but cut off again.

Andreas’s mother’s voice dripping with urgency. “Take Belinda to the hospital immediately! Can’t you see how much pain she’s in?”

Andreas swept Belinda into his arms and shot me a look filled with disappointment and contempt. “I never knew you were this cruel, Selena.”

Then he rushed out the door, leaving me standing there barefoot, the skin on my feet blistered from boiling soup.

If he hadn’t lost himself, Andreas should have known—seeing someone hurt always made me cry. I was too soft-hearted to hurt anyone.

But now, I wasn’t even allowed to explain.

In this house, everything I did was wrong, and Belinda was always right.

The maid hurried to me, kneeling with trembling hands as she pressed a damp towel to my burned skin.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” she whispered, pity filling her eyes.

Her pity hurt more than the burn. Was I that pathetic at that moment?

I treated the wounds myself at home.

Since Andreas didn’t return home that night, I also decided to pack my things.

As I walked past the new decorated nursery, I found the three ultrasound photos we had once displayed laid in the floor.

I remembered Andreas saying, with such gentle hope, “Let’s hang them here, so our future babies will know they once had siblings. I’m sure someday we’ll meet them again.”

Such a sweet moment… one of many. Now every sweet memory had become a blade in my chest.

“Don’t worry babies, Mom will take you with me forever.”

I took the ultrasound photos to my room and began packing, leaving behind everything Andreas had given me—even the gifts that matched Belinda’s.

That night, I printed the divorce papers Neil had sent through the family lawyer and signed them.

Only Andreas’s signature remained.

The next day, I went to the hospital, that was the day for my abortion appointment.

But the moment I stepped into the ob-gyn department, I saw Andreas and Belinda walking out together.

“Thankfully, our baby is healthy,” Belinda said sweetly

But then she pouted, “But Andreas, you need to comfort Selena more. I’m starting to feel scared to face her.”

“Don’t worry,” he replied calmly. “Selena is still emotionally unstable from her last miscarriage. She loves children—she’ll accept this baby.”

Belinda smiled. “She has to. Especially since we tried to terminate her last pregnancy and change her supplements, so she’d agree to the pregnancy program. We…”

Hearing such a cruel thing, I stepped closer, and cut off, “Is that true?”

They froze, shocked that I was there and had heard everything.

“I asked you. Is that true?” I roared, making people nearby turned to stare.

“Selena, lower your voice. You’re making a scene,” Andreas hissed, while Belinda covered her face, pretending to be embarrassed.

Being public figures, they quickly guided me to the emergency stairwell. Andreas apologized to the onlookers, “Sorry, my wife is mentally unstable after her miscarriage.”

The crowd lost interest and returned to their business.

Once the door shut behind us, I shook his hand off and screamed, “Don’t touch me! Let everyone hear how you killed your own child for this bitch!”

Belinda stepped forward, offended. “Selena, I’ve been patient. How can you call me by that?”

Anger was fulfilling my body, so my hand moved before reason could stop it—I grabbed her hair. “You’re indeed a bitch. A parasite.”

She cried out and tried to push me away. Andreas rushed in, pulling at my arm. “Selena, stop! Don’t act insane. Let me explain.”

“No explanation needed. You’re a bastard, and she’s a bitch!” I roared.

What I didn’t expect was that in anger, Belinda deliberately shoved me hard, making me stumble backward—straight down the emergency stairs.

I rolled, hitting step after step, until my body slammed into the wall at the bottom with a sickening sound. Gasps filled the stairwell as people rushed to look.

I felt warm liquid beneath me and grabbed my aching stomach. “No, no...”

The last thing I heard was Andreas screaming, “Call the doctor!”

I woke up in the hospital ward. The first thing I heard was the doctor telling Andreas that the baby had died.

He didn’t mention the abortion, but Andreas also learned that I had gotten pregnant again… and miscarried again.

“The mother survived, but the baby didn’t.”

“Thank God,” Andreas said.

I was stunned. How could he say that?

The doctor left, and Andreas soon followed, leaving me alone in the room with Belinda.

“I know you’re awake,” she said coldly. “No need to pretend.”

Mocking, as always.

The moment I opened my eyes, she leaned closer and said, “Tell me, Selena, how was today’s show? Exciting, right?”

“You probably thought he would cry again after finding out you lost another baby. Do you still think he loves you?”

She laughed. “Oh, Selena… poor you. From the beginning, you were nothing but a replacement. He married you just because I rejected him five years ago.”

“You were just his revenge.”

“And when I came back,” she continued, “he chose me again. It looks like you never managed to take him away from me.”

I already knew the truth. The divorce agreement came with the proof that their relationship wasn’t just something that happened on set—it started long ago.

Belinda was the woman Andreas had wanted five years ago.

Their recent movie together was just a chance to rekindle their long-standing relationship.

Under her mockery, I forced myself to sit up, even though pain exploded through my lower stomach.

I placed the document in front of Belinda.

“If that’s the truth,” I said calmly, “Then, I think you will be glad to see this.”

Belinda unfolded it, expecting divorce papers.

“I’m not asking for a cent of marital assets,” I continued. “Just make sure he signs it tonight. Preferably without reading the contents.”

Her brows lifted, impressed. “And after he signs it?”

“I’ll leave this town. Disappear. Even Andreas won’t be able to find me.”

“Deal,” she said before turning and walking out of the ward.

That day, everything became clear. If from the beginning, I was just a replacement.

So, I texted my brother and told him to pull all my shares out of Lenz Agency—Andreas’s pride, the number one agency in Los Angeles, built with my name, my money, and my sacrifices.

I also asked him to help me disappear.

I almost pitied Andreas. I wondered what his face would look like when he found out the empire he bragged about no longer belonged to him.

In the middle of the night, she returned and handed me the signed document. I didn’t care what methods she used—what mattered was that I finally had the result I wanted.

“You’d better keep your promise,” she warned.

I gave a small smile. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of staying with cheaters. You know me better than that.”

Belinda smirked. She knew I’d hated cheaters since college.

“Well then, Selena,” she said smugly, “when the baby is born, I’ll send you his cute photos, make sure to see it.”

I smiled back. “No need, but I really wish you a good luck, new Mrs. McMillan.”

The next morning, in another hospital room, Belinda sat peeling an orange while Andreas fed her gently. She giggled when the nurse entered.

“Mr. McMillan,” the doctor said heavily, “I’m sorry, but your wife, Selena McMillan, has passed away due to infection following a miscarriage.”

The orange fell from Andreas’s fingers.

“What?” he whispered, his face going pale.

The world he thought he controlled… finally began to crumble, exactly as I intended.